Not the Life I Want
by PeetaCato13
Summary: Cato and Peeta are both small-town celebrities in their own right. Cato is the football team captain and ladies man, while Peeta is a dance prodigy that is going places. While watching Peeta dance, Cato realizes that he can no longer live the life that everyone has envisioned for him. He needs Peeta. This story will follow their budding romance.
1. Chapter 1

Not the Life I Want Ch.1

I skipped football practice again. I've been doing that a lot lately. I just have to watch him dance.

My name's Cato, captain of the Hammer High football team, rich family, girls all over me, you know the drill. But I don't want any of it. The only events that I look forward to are Tuesday and Thursday evenings when I can skip practice and watch him dance.

The "him" I've been referring to does have a name, and yes, I know it. I don't just stalk nameless subjects for my own pleasure. His name is Peeta and he dances for a local company that has rehearsals that are open to the public on Tuesday and Thursday nights. This is mostly due to the fact that it is a dance company for mostly younger students, and parents want to come watch. I'm usually the youngest person in that audience those nights.

As I walk to the rehearsal hall a few blocks away from the school (small town), I allow myself to daydream a little bit about the first time I saw Peeta dance.

Peeta is somewhat of a celebrity in this town, depending on whom you ask. To some, mostly women and young children with big dreams, Peeta is the epitome of where hard work can get you. Despite his small stature that would normally put him at a severe disadvantage in the world of dance, he was recently selected to attend a summer program at Carnegie Mellon for lyrical contemporary dance. Of course our small town Tennessee newspapers ate that right up. He was on the cover of the local journal and on the news. You'd think it was the greatest feat anyone from our town has ever accomplishes. What's sad is that's probably true. Almost no one ever gets out of here. Peeta will though I'm sure. Anyway, all of this press meant that his face was on display a lot around the town. Majestic pictures of him in intricate dance positions allured the hearts of many, including mine. I had gone to school with Peeta for years and never noticed him; we are even in the same grade. He's one of those reclusive students who don't draw attention to themselves.

I didn't do anything about my new-found interest for a long time, I'd tell myself it was due to social pressures. That brings me to another point, those people in the town that didn't view Peeta with the same appreciation that others did. You see, most of the men and teenage boys in this place viewed Peeta with contempt, calling him all sorts of names like fairy boy and princess. His chosen form of recreation didn't fit the mold that seems to be ingrained in the small minds of the men here. Dance is for girls, they would say. I knew that if I showed interest in Peeta or what he was doing, I would have to take some of that criticism as well, especially because I had quite the reputation. I've been known as a "lady-killer" since I was in the seventh grade. It's been beneficial to me up until this point, helping me to hide my true desires. But now I'm afraid of putting that in jeopardy and being exposed, probably hated. While this did scare me, it was not the principle fear in my mind regarding Peeta. I was afraid of finally having to face the feelings which I've done everything I possibly could to cover up for years. I was afraid of myself.

After weeks of hard contemplation I finally decided how I could go about seeing him without the whole town knowing. Actually going to a recital was out of the question. One reason was because the closest one was months away and I didn't think I could wait that long. Another was because I was sure to be recognized. I figured out, however, that the company has open rehearsals on Tuesday and Thursday evenings from 4 to 7. This posed a slight problem because it ran into football practice a little bit. The first day was easy though, because I just said I felt sick. I told the coach that my stomach was churning and I needed to sit down; he told me to go home like I knew he would. Right after showering I started walking to the dance hall and the anticipation was killing me! I was finally going to encounter the guy I'd been dreaming about for a long time now. And I'm telling you, he didn't disappoint. What I witnessed that day was one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had.

I got there right before rehearsal was starting. Good thing too because they lock the doors on anyone trying to enter late. I took a seat somewhat in the back. I wanted to be able to see everything happening, but I didn't want to run the risk of anyone, especially Peeta, seeing me there. There were very few parents that came out to watch their children, none of whom I knew, so I was in the clear. I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. Then he walked on stage and everything stopped. I don't even think I breathed throughout the entire routine. My whole world was Peeta the moment he started dancing. I still remember every movement he made and it brings a smile to my lips as I stroll. I won't try to explain all of the complicated choreography, but I can tell you it was magnificent. Every motion was calculated and utilized in a way that would draw the most emotional response from the audience. His face was a tool he used to draw you into him. You saw the depth of his struggle at the start, but at the end his eyes shown with a victory that was unmatched even by the greatest war heroes.

At that moment, I was his. I didn't know what love was, and I was very unsure of what exactly my feelings were for Peeta. But, I knew that I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to spend all of the time I could with him. I wanted to laugh with him and cry with him. I wanted to push him to succeed and protect him from discouragement.

Naturally, I continued to spend all of my Tuesdays and Thursdays watching Peeta dance, going unnoticed in the back. I wasn't unnoticed, however, by my football coach. He took my excuses for a while. Coach Turner probably thought I had a good reason to miss, even if my excuses were getting less and less believable. Eventually, though, it got to be too much and he called my dad explaining all of the practice that I had missed. At this point, it all blew up in my face.

My dad is not angry by natural disposition. It takes a lot to cause him to lose his temper, but when he does he is absolutely enraged. I came home that night, still high from watching Peeta dance, to find my father waiting by the door ready to explode. He yelled and screamed in a manner that I have never heard from him before. By this point, I had missed 10 practices. Before Peeta, I had never missed a practice in my life. My father made sure to raise me to be disciplined and dedicated, and up until then I had never disappointed him. He demanded to know where I was going every Tuesday and Thursday. Obviously I couldn't tell him, but I couldn't come up with a lie straight to his face either. I stood there silently waiting for punishment, but he simply ordered me to my room. It was unsaid but understood that I would not miss another football practice.

Today is the first time since that incident two weeks ago. Those two weeks without seeing Peeta dance were the hardest I can remember; I had almost nothing to look forward to when I woke up in the morning. I woke up today and decided I couldn't take it: I would go to his rehearsal today and I would speak to him, no matter what my father might do.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just wanted to say that I'm really enjoying writing this fic. This is my first time ever trying so reviews would be very helpful! If you give a review, I will make sure to reply to it in an author's note when I post the next chapter. Thank you all! **

Not the Life I Want Ch.2

I was glad to know that even after a couple of weeks away, the dance hall still felt familiar, like being home. I took my usual seat in the back and mused on how good it felt to be back here where I belong. In the back of my mind was that fear of what my dad would do when he found out, but more prominent than that was the dreadful anticipation of actually speaking to Peeta at the end of rehearsal. All of my thoughts were halted, however, when he walked onto the stage, dressed sensually in a half buttoned black shirt and slacks.

Oh God! This was a dress rehearsal, and he was doing a jazz number that I've never seen before. In fact, I've never seen Peeta do jazz at all. His dances are always slow and intricate, showing off his flexibility and expression. The music is always soft, as to not distract the audience from the real centerpiece, Peeta. This music, on the other hand, was loud and in your face. So were Peeta's dance moves. The rapid turns and flowing hips were nearly too much to handle. What was even worse was the look on his face. It was obviously meant to be sexy and hot, and damn! it sure was. My pants were getting uncomfortably tight and the thoughts running through my head soared uncensored by any sort of self-control.

I let myself wonder into a fantasy of me and Peeta after rehearsal. I would walk right up to him and finish unbuttoning that shirt; it was in the way. I would run my fingers across the hard muscles he must have built up from dancing all those years. Then, I would look up and into his eyes. They would be searing blue and determined. Sexy. He would raise my own shirt off me in an almost animalistic fashion before shoving our lips together. While our tongues fought between our two mouths, I could finally bury my fingers into that golden wheat-blonde hair. He would moan a gently when I give it a little tug and I would be determined to make him moan like that and more tonight. When the need for air was at its peak, we would break apart and breathe together, our faces still close and eyes locked, wanting more. I would grab onto his belt loops and pull him into me, our mutual hardness rubbing against each other. I could feel him and he could feel me. His mouth would be open in the hottest way imaginable and while he was distracted I would latch my lips onto his neck, biting and then soothing with my tongue. I know I'm good at this because girls have always said so, so it would be no surprise when he melts into my ministrations. He would grab onto my shoulders for support and cry out "Cato!"

Suddenly, my thoughts were disrupted by the boy on stage. He had just finished his routine and was bent slightly forward in a bow, smiling. Smiling at me! I swear he was staring straight into my eyes knowingly, as if he knew that I was there just to watch him.

Peeta's P.O.V

I smiled right at him. He had come back. I've been working on this jazz routine for weeks in the hopes of letting Cato know that I am interested.

Of course I know Cato. I doubt there are many people in this town who don't. He's basically the king of the school. Despite our difference in social status, there has always been something that attracted me to him. It's probably the books. Cato loves to read, and I don't mean those trashy vampire teen puke-fests. He likes the classics: Paradise Lost, Gulliver's Travels, Heart of Darkness. At any given time he has a free moment, he can always be seen with his nose deep in a book. I admire this mostly because it is a refreshing break from the super-jock stereotype he is placed in. It also says a lot that he doesn't try to hide it. He reads publicly for all to see. Yeah, he gets picked on for it, but he takes it in stride.

I was slightly taken aback the first night that I saw Cato at one of my dance rehearsals. At first I just assumed he had a little sister that was in the junior company or something, but after I asked around, no one knew of any member with a connection to him. I began to let myself think that maybe he was there to see me. Maybe he was noticing me, which would be a first. No one really notices me, and usually I like it that way. I'm not good at hiding my feelings, and I've been bullied my whole life here. The only way I can get away from it all is with dance. I have my own private world on that stage, but that isn't to say that I'm opposed to sharing it with someone one day. Thoughts crept into my head that maybe Cato could be this person, but I hastily dismissed them. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of him and become a bigger target for bullies after all this work laying low.

He came for over a month every Tuesday and Thursday. Eventually, I just had to know. That's when I started working on this jazz routine. Jazz was a new thing for me, having never strayed from the contemporary style that I excel at. I stepped out of my comfort zone a little bit because I knew that if Cato was really there to see me, he wouldn't be able to resist the erotic motions of a jazz number. I figured it wouldn't do any harm because even if I was wrong, I would grow as a dancer anyway.

As I walk off stage to the sound of applause from my choreographer, I think it may have worked. I may have just reeled in the possible man of my dreams. I start changing back into casual clothes so that I can go out and watch the other ensembles perform their numbers. What I'm not expecting, is to see Cato backstage.

"Hey Peeta"

"Uh, Hi Cato. What are you doing here?" _I hoped I didn't sound too harsh; I was just curious. _

"I uh..I just came to watch you. You looked awesome out there."

_Holy shit did he just complement me? Gosh Peeta use your words. WORDS!_

"Oh. Um…Thanks?" _that wasn't supposed to be a question. Why did I say it like a question?!_

"So I was wondering if you would maybe like to go out with me some time?"

I'm at him blankly not saying anything. This isn't because I don't want to say anything. All I want to do is say yes and spend a night on a date with Cato, but for some reason, my brain isn't relaying this to my mouth and nothing is coming out. I see a look of devastation on his face due to my hesitation in answering, and my heart breaks. I never want to see him look like that again. Before I can react, he is running out the exit. Fantastic, I blew it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I am really excited to see some reviews and follows! I am absolutely loving writing this story, so keep them coming! **

**To ateatowel123: Thanks for the encouragement! It means a lot. **

**To Rasean: I don't know about that yet. I wasn't planning on it originally, but hey, you never know ;)**

**To mattiboi: You have no idea how much that means! I'll definitely try to update regularly. **

**To ir1208: Glad to hear it! Hopefully I can keep it that way :) **

**Alright guys, enjoy! **

* * *

Not the Life I Want Ch.3

Cato's P.O.V

Fuck! I screwed it all up! I can't believe I just went up to him and asked him out, assuming that he was gay and could be interested in me. I always do this; I act too rashly and jump to conclusions. It just seemed like such an invitation, that dance. I still can't get it out my mind. The way he moved on that stage and his smile that appeared to be meant just for me still has me reeling. I never want to forget it.

I just hope that he doesn't go around telling everyone. I don't think Peeta's that kind of person but what I thought hasn't really gotten me anywhere lately so I shouldn't count on it.

I'm also almost home, ready to face the punishment of my dad. I'm sure that Coach called him when he found out that I left practice today. And even after the disaster that went down, I still don't regret it. At least now I know how Peeta feels. I walk through the door with a slight feeling of déjà vu; he's waiting for me again. But something is different this time. He doesn't look angry like last time, just confused.

"Cato you have to tell me where you've been. Why are your eyes red?"

It actually sounded like he was genuinely concerned. I haven't heard this tone of voice from him since mom died three years ago. It touched me a little bit, and I wanted to just spill it all out to him. I wanted to tell him about my preferences and how I just had my heart broken for the first time.

"Dad I don't want to talk about it." _In reality, I could never tell him the truth. I couldn't lose him and Peeta the same day. _

"You know I have to do something about this."

"I know dad."

Then, he just walked out. I was expecting any number of punishments for disobeying him, lost car privileges, grounding, no cell-phone, but not this.

I stood there stunned for a while and decided to go for a walk myself. I needed some guidance anyway. I walked on to the one place I knew I could find it, the cemetery.

Somehow mom's grave has always brought me solace. I can go there and work out all my problems. And she knows about me. I know it doesn't really count, but it helps anyway. When I make it there I get yet another surprise for the night. It's my dad. This is where he went.

I see him sitting there crying over her grave, and speaking. I can barely make out what he's saying but I don't want to disturb him in such a private moment. Instead I stand back out of view and just listen.

"I just don't know what to do anymore Mary. I don't know what to do"

He sobs into the grave and I can't help but soften at his words. I've been causing him this much pain by keeping my distance from him. I justified it because he seemed to shut down all emotions after mom's death, but that obviously isn't the case right now. Right now we just need to be a family. I walk up to him and touch his shoulder. He looks up at me with red eyes that little a little timid and embarrassed, but mostly sad. I kneel down by mom's grave with him and begin to cry myself. We just both sit there for a while and cry together. Eventually he gets up and I follow him back home; neither of us say anything.

When we walk in the door he looks at me solemnly.

"I don't know what going on with you but you should know that you can always talk to me. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been, but I'm dealing with everything a lot better now. I'm so sorry for not supporting you when I should have, but I want to make this right. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything."

"Thanks dad. I'll try harder too." _And I mean it. I want a better relationship with my dad. I hate the tension that has existed between us for a while now. _

"When your coach called me today he said if you skip one more practice you'll be off the team. Let that threat be punishment enough. Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes sir."

"Goodnight son."

"Night dad."

I lay awake in bed that night for hours before sleep overcame me. All I could think about was Peeta. I even tried to read one of my favorites, Gulliver's travels, for some humor and comfort, but it wasn't working. Anytime that I tried to focus he was always there in my mind, dancing.

Peeta's P.O.V

I had to do something about this! I just ruined my chances with a great guy because of my stupid insecurities. I wanted everything that happened to happen up until that point. Cato's reaction was almost too ideal. He gave me exactly what I wanted and I threw it away just like that. I have to find a way to talk to him.

I get to school and immediately feel a pit in my stomach. I hate going to school anyway, but having to see Cato after what happened would make it even worse. Naturally, we have first period together. I take my seat in A.P Lit and wait for him to arrive. Maybe I can catch his eye and speak to him quickly. I'd like to set up a place to meet in private and discuss everything. I mostly just want to apologize for treating him that way. I was also hoping that I could still have a chance for that date.

The next thing I know the late bell rings, signally the beginning of class and Cato isn't there! If he's not at school today that will mean I have to go the whole weekend before I can talk to him. He does have a game tonight that I could attend, but I have dance rehearsal. I'll just have to figure something out.

Cato's P.O.V

I skip first period so that I can talk to Coach Turner for a while and explain that I've been having some issues but don't intend of missing any more practices. It's not like there would be a point now anyway. I used this time to discuss with Coach because I also really don't want to face Peeta. I'm not really worried about him telling people. At this point my cares about my reputation don't even come close to equally my broken heart.

I guess I should just try to go back to the way I was. I'll push all of these feelings down for a while longer and hopefully they'll go away. I should start by getting into game mode for tonight. Putting all my energy into playing well should distract me from my inner turmoil. I leave the books out of it for now so I don't get too emotional. Maybe I'll give them up all together, only do "manly" things. Maybe it's been part of my problem all along.

Peeta's P.O.V

UGH! Dance rehearsal is going rough. I can't focus on anything and this number is a partner dance. After almost injury her about five times, my instructor Portia finally lets me take a break. I sit down and try to clear my head but all I can think about is Cato and what I'm going to say to him. What's supposed to make me think that I'll do any better the second time around? I try to tell myself that if I have a plan I can stick to it. Last time he just caught me off guard. I check my phone and see that his game starts in 20 minutes, but rehearsal doesn't end for another hour. I want to be there for him the whole time, so I need to make up some excuse. I've been dancing horribly tonight anyway, so maybe Portia will gladly let me take a night off.

"Hey, Portia."

"Yeah, Peeta? Are you all good now? The last thing we need is for Jamie to have a broken ankle because you didn't support her on the lift again."

"Actually I'm not feeling well at all. Do you think I could have the night off? I'll spend the weekend weight training to get up my strength in return."

"Sure Peeta, that sounds like a good idea. Get some rest."

I can't help the smile the crosses my face at her permission, but I quickly hide it at her quizzical look. I go home and shower quickly, and I make it in the gate just as the first kickoff is happening.

Cato is the quarterback for the team, and we received the ball first. I can see him running onto the field and holy hell those football pants make him look so hot. I watch him throw pass after pass as the game goes on. My favorite moments are when the defense goes out and he comes to the sideline. He takes off his helmet and his hair is all messy. I can see the sweat dripping down his face and neck and I'm pretty sure I've never been this turned on in my whole life.

One time when I was caught up in my own fantasy world, Cato looks back at the crowd and catches my eye. I can see the look of both slight horror and happiness at having me here at his game. I smile and him softly and hope he notices, although he doesn't react. He turns around and doesn't look at the crowd the rest of the game.

Cato's P.O.V

Oh my God! Peeta is here! I don't know why he would come, but it's making it that much harder to control myself and focus on the game. I saw the smile he gave me. It wasn't sensual like the one I thought he gave me on stage. This one was sweet and warm. Regardless, it was equally thrilling and inviting. I'm going to have to work hard to make myself concentrate on this last quarter.

We win the game and I'm so caught up in the taste of victory that I don't see Peeta standing by the fence looking at me. I walk right by him on the way back to the lockers, and he stops me with a gesture.

"Hey Cato would you mind talking to me for a minute when you're finished? I'll wait right outside of the locker room."

"Hey faggot what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be prancing your panzy ass around some stage? Come on Cato, don't waste your time talking to this loser." My friend Marvel interjects. I walk back to the locker room with him, but I look back long enough to nod at Peeta, letting him know that I will have a minute to talk.

I can't imagine what he has to say to me. Somewhere deep down is a hope that he thought about my offer and actually wants to get to know me, but I let that go really quick. I already got my hopes up once and got crushed. I'm not about to let it happen again.

I shower and change quickly. My heart swells at the idea of just spending any time with Peeta. I walk outside to find him waiting for me like he said. He's so cute, wrapped up in his jacket and blue scarf. It makes his eyes look even more distinct and beautiful.

"Hey Cato."

"Hi, Peeta. What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other night." _Oh God, this didn't sound very good. He looked hesitant and unsure. _

"Listen Peeta I'm so sorry for making those assumptions and coming on so strong. I just really hope that you won't – "

"I'd love to go out with you sometime."

It came out so rushed and he looked almost bashful, blushing a little bit. And I thought he couldn't get any more adorable.

"Wow, Peeta. That would be great. How about tomorrow night? Dinner?"

"Sounds good. Here's my number – "

He takes out a pen and writes his phone number on my hand like they do in the movies. I couldn't belief my turn in luck! This boy was making me crazy! Forget everything I thought about pushing away my desires; all I want is Peeta.

"Thanks. I'll text you when I get home so that you have my number as well. Goodnight Peeta"

"Night Cato"

We share small smiles and walk away from each other. My heart is pounding and I'm sweating a little bit in anticipation. I'm excited to see what is next for me and Peeta. Dinner tomorrow cannot come soon enough!

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**Hey you guys, I just wanted to tell you not to hate me for the mention of Marvel! I promise the fic isn't going to bash him! His friendship with Cato will play an important part later, but for now I just needed to focus on actually getting the two together! Let me know what you think about Cato's family story line, and give me any ideas about how I can improve it or what direction you want it to go! Thank you!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you guys again for all the support! I know many of you have said that you want to see their date and that's coming next chapter I promise! Here's a little something to hold you over. Enjoy :) **

**To Mattiboi - thanks for the encouragement! I'm holding off on the date chapter so that I can focus just on that part and get it right! **

**To LowestDegrees - I'm glad that you're diggin it! I'll definitely continue as long as there's interest. **

Not the Life I Want Ch. 4

Peeta's P.O.V

Of course I couldn't help but stare at my phone after I got home, waiting for Cato to text me.

**Hey Cutie ;) – C**

Mmm. Confident and sexy, just like him. I made sure to save his number into my phone before I replied.

**Hey yourself :) – P **

**What are you up to? – C **

**Just laying in bed. – P **

**Thinking? – C **

**Yeah – P **

**About what? ;) – C **

**Take a wild guess…:) – P **

**Good to hear – C **

Unfortunately, after only talking for a few minutes, it's really late. The football game ended around 11:00 so not it's after midnight. I really wanted to keep talking to Cato, but I had weight training in the school gym tomorrow, my own elected punishment for missing rehearsal earlier. Worth it.

**:) so it was awesome to hear from you, but I have to go. Early morning. Goodnight. See you tomorrow :) – P **

**Yeah same here. Night Peeta :) – C **

Cato's P.O.V

I hate that Peeta had to go, but I really do need to get some sleep. The football team has an extra practice in the gym tomorrow because of districts. If I have to spend all morning lifting weights, I should at least get a good night's rest.

To be honest, I still have a lot to discuss with Peeta. I am so excited that he took me up on my offer for that date, and he was even flirting with me a little bit in the texts, but I still need to know why he hesitated in the first place and what made him change his mind. I'll try not to let that get to me too much tonight, though. I'll save it for the date tomorrow.

I am nervous that being around him now is going to make me more flustered than ever. Before knowing how he felt about the matter, I could go on believing it was just a fantasy. But now I know he feels the same; my fantasy just became reality. I am happy, but it's the kind of happy that makes my stomach tumble.

**_The Next Morning….._**

I got up early and showered quickly, because I let myself hit snooze on my alarm clock a few times. Now it's 7:20 and I'm just staring down at the eggs I made, wondering if I should text Peeta good morning. What the heck! It's not that big of a deal. I'll just do it.

**Hey I won't keep you from whatever you've got going on this morning, but I just wanted to say good morning and have a good day. Be ready at 8 o clock for the date of your life :) – C **

I hope I don't sound too cocky, but I do want to come off as strong and confident. I don't want him to think that just because I'm the jock type I'll be ashamed or embarrassed of him. If this thing works out, I want everyone to know. I just have to figure out how I want to go about telling everyone, especially Marvel.

Marvel has been my best friend since elementary school. We've always been there for each other. When my mom died and my dad grew distant, he was the one that was there to pick me up. I owe so much of who I am to him, and I don't want to lose his friendship. Marvel is a real "man's man" and I don't think he would take the news well. He's always chasing girls and throwing around the word "faggot" like it's nothing. I don't want to end up another fag on his radar.

I'll figure all that out when the time comes. Right now I just need to get through today. Peeta hasn't texted me back but it's only been a few minutes, and he's probably already busy with whatever he had to do. I try not to let myself think much of it. 7:35 and I'm out the door.

I'm at the gym by 7:45, a little bit earlier than everyone because practice doesn't start until 8. I usually like to have this time to work out alone, but I already here weights being moved and sharp breathing that indicates someone using the bench press. I step out from behind the lockers to see who it is, and when I do I'm shocked!

In front of me, on the bench press in a tight-fitting tank top and sweat dripping down his arms, is Peeta. This must have been what he had to do this early! He has headphones in so he doesn't notice me right away and I can't help but admire him for a few moments. His tones arms are flexed with the strain of quite a bit of weight. I guess he needs to be pretty strong to do some of those dance moves. What's fascinating me more than anything is the way he's gently biting on his lower lip occasionally. Man I can't wait until tonight when I can take that lip gently between my own teeth.

I hear several guys enter the locker room at once, and this time Peeta notices that there are other people in the room. He puts down the weights and makes eye contact with me. I smile gently at him and he looks a little caught off guard but smiles back quickly. He takes off his headphones and looks like he's about to say something when –

"Hey princess this is the men's locker room. We're about to start working so get out" _Marvel again. I love the guy, but this ignorance is starting to really get on my nerves. _

"Hey listen man, this is the school gym. Anybody can use it. Why don't you leave the guy alone?"

"Oh, so you're gonna stick up for this fag now? What's up your ass Cato? I hope it's not the same thing that's been up his"

My rage is boiling and my face is getting a little red. I can't listen to someone talk about Peeta this way. I'm about to really lay into Marvel, but then Peeta gets up and walks out, mumbling apologies on his way. I stare at him as he leaves, obviously looking a little confused because the guys pick up on something.

"Why do you care anyway Cato?"

"Is he your new bitch or what man?"

I have to find some way to cover for myself. They can't find out like this.

"Nothing's up guys; I don't even know who he is. I just think it's wrong to be a jerk to someone who hasn't done anything to me."

"Whatever Cato, let's just get on with this workout."

I'm going to have to grit my teeth through this workout and hope that Peeta isn't too mad about the way my friends were acting. Before I start, I check my phone and see that I have a text message from him. I smile to myself a little bit when I open it and I know everything is going to be ok.

**Thank you. It means a lot that you stood up for me. – P **

**Anytime. :) – C **


End file.
